


Bonding

by Hawkbutt



Series: Unlikely Family [1]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Derek is pissy, Gen, I do what I want okay, I have JacksonFeels okay, PackMom!Stiles, Probably not all that much in character, So not canon compliant, Stiles is weirdly protective of Jackson, Stiles/Kanima bonding, kanima!Jackson - Freeform, scared!Jackson
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-02-12
Updated: 2013-02-12
Packaged: 2017-11-29 01:32:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,973
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/681174
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hawkbutt/pseuds/Hawkbutt
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Scott and Derek push Jackson too far one day during training, spooking him and making him run into the woods. Stiles snaps and goes off after Jackson to try and coax him out again.</p><p>Basically a Stiles-Bonding-with-Kanima!Jackson story.<br/>(Not great at summaries)</p><p>(Not Beta'd)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Bonding

**Author's Note:**

> Okay, so I added some crap about the Kanima that I'm pretty sure is all bullshit. So. 
> 
> And Jackson is a bit of a pussy (understatement). But.
> 
> WHATEVER. IT MAKES THE STORY GO. 
> 
> ENJOY.

“LEAVE ME ALONE!”  
  
Stiles froze as Scott backed away rapidly from Jackson, whose skin was slowly peeling and morphing into those sickeningly green scales that marked the Kanima. The Lacrosse captain’s eyes had a familiar blue glow; the only mark of his continued humanity, scales or not.

Derek burst out of the half-renovated Hale house, eyes blazing Alpha red as he growled at the half-transformed Kanima.

Jackson hissed back, his claws already dripping with venom. Stiles couldn’t help but notice that fact; something about it was niggling something in the back of his mind—something he had obviously forgotten.

 

Distraction came in the form of Scott stepping in front of Stiles, shielding his best friend from the other were. In response, Jackson hunched on himself, the transformation taking completely as he hissed louder—a loud and clear, reptilian “ _Fuck off_ ,” if Stiles had ever heard one from the Jock.

It suddenly clicked when Isaac made an aborted lunge at Jackson; the transformed teen hunched even further back, claws secreting so much venom that it was soaking into the dirt underneath him.  

 

_“When a Kanima feels threatened, even with their Master in the vicinity, their secretions will increase. If the Kanima is of adolescent age, or are searching for a Master, they will often find the need to flee from the threat.”_

 

Oh, my god. How could they not notice this? Stiles grit his teeth as he cursed Lydia’s parents and their need to buy their daughter’s love; this time, with a ten-day trip to Copenhagen. She’d always been able to help calm Jackson, since she took the main role as the pack’s Kanima tamer after Gerard was taken care of.

A furious growl broke Stiles from his thoughts, and his head snapped up in time to see Derek stalking towards Jackson. The Kanima was backing away, hissing and swiping threateningly at his Alpha. None of the hits actually landed, and Jackson curled his tail around himself, flinching as the Werewolf roared, demanding submission.

 

“HEY! ENOUGH!” Stiles yelled, running up and shoving at Derek’s arm, tearing the Alpha’s attention away long enough for Jackson to turn and vanish into the forest. The human met the were’s furious glare with stubbornness, and only flinched when Derek grabbed his biceps, hard enough that there was sure to be bruises when he next looked.

 

“You do _not_ get between one of my betas and I,” Derek snarled, shaking the human roughly, “That is _not your fucking place, Stiles!”_

There was a rough growl back, and Stiles fought against the hold, shoving Derek’s hands off of him, “You don’t fucking treat him like a beta, so don’t give me that shit!” He snapped, glaring at the weres surrounding him.

 

It didn’t make sense, why Stiles felt this overwhelming urge to protect Jackson. The jock was one of his biggest sources of harassment through most of his life, if he thought really hard about it. But seeing Scott shoving Jackson around, like he was some pet he could order and push around—it made something in Stiles snap.

 

Douchebag or not, Jackson was pack. And most of this ragtag pack seemed to forget that.

 

“Stiles—“

 

“No,” He interrupted Derek’s oncoming rant, raising a hand as his voice lowered, “No. You fucking listen to _me_ , Derek Hale. Hell, all of you should listen!” He looked around the pack, taking in the stubborn, indignant expressions on some of the wolves, “You all shove him around, put him in the metaphorical mud, and not expect him to eventually snap?”  
  
“But he’s Jackso—“ Scott started, but his mouth closed with a quiet snap when Stiles’ glare was turned on him.

 

“That’s no excuse. He’s _pack._ Or did you all conveniently forget what that means? It sure doesn’t goddamn mean that just because ‘he’s Jackson’, or ‘he’s the Kanima’, you can treat him like some sort of pet!” His voice was getting shrill with anger, and he turned his attention back on Derek, who seemed only a few moments away from tearing flesh from bone.

“Stiles. This has gone too far. Jackson needs to be put in his place.”

 

A sneer was his response, “By bullying, and forcing your authority, right. Oh, Derek. Your progress as a caring, protective Alpha _so_ impresses me,” He shook his head, stepping away, “I don’t care what the hell the rest of you do, but I’m going to do what I should’ve done instead of trying to hammer some common sense into your thick skull.”

With that, Stiles turned on his heel, and took off into the forest after Jackson.

 

\-----

 

It was obvious that the sun was lowering in the sky as Stiles trudged through the forest. Following the chaotic trail of a frightened Kanima wasn’t easy, and it seemed to be going on forever; and calling Jackson’s name seemed to do nothing for him.

Movement in the brush to his left had Stiles freezing and then crouching defensively, eyes trained on the foliage. When the rustling stopped at the same time, he frowned in confusion, slowly making his way over to peek into the bushes.

 

When glowing blue eyes met amber, Stiles quickly found himself on his ass in surprise. His mouth worked soundlessly for a moment before he swallowed, “Jackson?” Holding out a hand, he got back on his feet and started back over, stopping when the Kanima seemed to move away.

“No, Jackson—wait!” Stiles yelped, “I came to make sure you were okay,” his tone gentled again as Jackson paused, and looked back up at the human from where he was nearly flat on the ground. Stiles bit his lip and looked around, then shuffled back so he was sitting against an large, old tree, “C’mon, dude. You may not like me, y’know, at all. But you know I’m not going to hurt you.”

 

There was another pause, then Jackson was slowly crawling out of his hiding place, head cocked curiously. _‘Well, at least he doesn’t seem so frightened anymore,’_ Stiles sighed softly in relief, trying to keep from fidgeting too much. Soon, the Kanima was within touching range, and Stiles slowly reached out to stroke the scaled brow, “Yeah, I didn’t like what Scott or Derek were doing either.”

The mention of the wolves’ names brought a change in the calm demeanor Jackson had; baring his teeth and hissing furiously, the Kanima sunk his claws into the tree next to Stiles’ head, bringing his face within inches of the human’s. Stiles couldn’t help it as he froze, eyes wide and shaking a bit in terror.

 

“Hey, hey, I know. They suck, like, hardcore,” He swallowed as Jackson didn’t seem to calm at all, “But, I, y’know, kind of told them off. Which was a super stupid idea. I think I pissed off Derek enough that he might kill me when we get back, and I’d rather not die; at least, not yet. So, y’know, it’s probably best that you chill out before _you_ do that first, Jacks. You don’t like me, but I don’t think you hate me that much.

 

“You’re scared, and you wanna run away and hide and hiss at everyone who comes near dude, I know. But I know you don’t wanna be alone, either. But you’re not alone, even if the pack are all a bunch of dickbags. Well, except Lydia, an’ Danny, and Allison, of course. They’re all, like, perfect. I don’t know how they do it; it’s crazy. I wonder if there’s a gene for perfectness. That would completely explain all of their—“

 

Stiles’ ramble was cut off by another hiss from the reptilian were, and he flinched back a bit. His eyes had shut during his babble, but they opened again at the strange sound Jackson was making: it wasn’t a hiss, or any sort of other lizard-y cry they’d heard before. It was higher, quieter, and had an underlying tone of loneliness. As the whine died off, the claws that the Kanima had dug into the tree slowly slid out. The scaled body hunched in on itself again, and he made that sad whining sound again, his head swinging around, like he wasn’t sure what to do, or where to go.

 

“Hey, hey, dude. It’s okay. I’m, uh… I’m here if you need me for something,” Stiles offered awkwardly, suddenly remembering who he was talking to. The Kanima paced a little around the tree where Stiles was sitting, still looking around. Stiles kept his posture loose and as unthreatening as possible. He definitely didn’t want to turn into lizard chow today.

 

After the sixth or seventh circuit around the tree and Stiles, Jackson paused again, and stared at the human in front of him. Suddenly, the whine ripped from his throat again, and he took a hesitant step towards Stiles. It was almost as if the reptile was afraid of _him_ ; of a skinny, hyperactive little human who was nothing compared to teeth and claws and venom.

Stiles bit his lip as he held out his hand again, trying to encourage the movement, “C’mon, dude. I won’t do anything; hell, I can’t do anything to do. You obviously need something dude. Let me help you.” His hand brushed along Jackson’s neck, and it was if a switch was flipped: the Kanima stumbled forward the last step or two and collapsed into Stiles’ lap; curled up and shaking as he wrapped his tail around the two of them.

 

Well, like this wasn’t awkward. Stiles blinked for a few moments before his body seemed to unlock on it’s own. His hands slowly rested on Jackson’s trembling spine, making slow, soothing strokes along the length. The Kanima’s head was buried in his stomach, and for a moment Stiles was worried that he’d soon be nicked by those claws piercing through the back of his hoodie. Thankfully, Jackson just fisted his hands in cloth instead of flesh.

Stiles wasn’t sure how long they sat there; Jackson clinging and trembling like a scared child, with Stiles soothing him through tactile affection. But eventually, his butt was getting alarmingly numb, and he felt the serious need to move. At least Jackson seemed to have stopped trembling.

 

“Hey, dude. We better get up or something. My butt feels like it’s going to fall off and die somewhere or something,” Stiles grinned, twisting his head to see if he could catch Jackson’s expression.

 

What he found had the grin slowly fading, and his stomach knotting: Jackson was fast asleep, still curled around Stiles, both hiding and protective at the same time. The fact that he was still a Kanima, and still clutching Stiles’ hoodie like a small child, had Stiles wondering how long it had been since someone last held Jackson like this; the thought of it had Stiles’ heart dropping in his chest. And when he tried to stretch, shifting Jackson’s position, the grip turned desperate, and that little whine sounded again as the were curled tighter around his packmate.

“Okay, okay, I won’t move,” Stiles sighed, mentally grumping about how pins and needles were making themselves known in his legs as they fell asleep (having a huge lizard-person-thing laying on your legs was not conducive to good circulation). But the complaints weren’t voiced aloud, and Stiles returned to stroking along Jackson’s spine as he slept.

The pack was going to be out looking for them eventually. Or not, depending on how pissed Derek still was. Stiles sighed again and rested his head back against the tree as he watched the sun dip lower through the tree line. Soon, he closed his eyes and prepared himself for the most uncomfortable awakening in the world in a few hours—whether by a horrified Jackson, or a worried, slash, angry pack.

 

He shrugged as he began to doze.

There were worse fates out there.

**Author's Note:**

> Well, this work just kind of took the reigns and went galloping without me.
> 
> Sorry, I think.
> 
> I haven't written fanfiction in literal YEARS. So, please. Review and criticize. I could seriously use it, especially since I've only watched some of the show (I mostly learned everything through the wiki and fanfiction)
> 
> I'm thinking of possibly making a series of these sort of fics (Kamina-mommy!Stiles and all that). What do you guys think?


End file.
